This Time I Mean It

Getting Past What Holds You Back with Baby Boomer Weight Loss Expert Scott 'Q' Marcus

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Message of Encouragement

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These are troubling times, to say the least.

We are confronting the most widespread, extensive, global health emergency in at least 100 years. Our economy is staggering like a boxer battered into delirium. Opinions have become “facts.” Social unrest is boiling. Political “discourse” (such as it is), centered around the removal or retention of arguably the most controversial, divisive, polarizing administration anyone can remember; has devolved to that of a couple of three-year-olds shouting “You’re a poo-poo head!” “No, your face is!” It feels like we’re together, untethered in a 1950s rusty, claptrap old school bus; sans seatbelts, careening down a potholed mountain roadway, out of control, hanging on for dear life while screaming in terror for someone to save us as we hurl towards a cliff on November 3. We’re hoping we don’t go over the edge; assuming all will eventually be okay. Yet, that grating, inner voice refuses to shut up, saying, “Don’t get your hopes up” continues to grow louder. I just want it all to stop.

But wait, there’s more!

Ghia, Mother Earth, is facing an existential crisis, resulting in unending firestorms, relentless flooding, bone dry draughts, and – in general – exceptionally severe weather, which is devastating property and lives (including non-human) on an unprecedented global level. (For the record, I long to live in a world where the word, “unprecedented” is no longer a standard adjective.)

The vise-grip, chest-squeezing, anxiety-producing catalog of happenings has us on hairpin triggers, damaging our collective and emotional physical, and mental health. For those of us who can remember it, 1968 is a Disney fairy tale compared to the Stephen King horror story of 2020. No one – not a single person alive today – has lived through an upheaval like this ever. Not one of us.

Of course, I don’t need to tell you that. You see it. You feel it. You’re living it, just as am I.

As goes the curse, we are living in “fascinating” times. It’s challenging to hold hope high when even the sky is covered in a thick blanket of burnt smoke.

Yet, a flicker crossed my mind.

[Read more…]

How’s Your Attitude?

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The social media meme displays the number “13” who is saying to all the other numbers, “I’m the worst number ever!”

Six-six-six replied, “I’ve got you beat.” Twenty-twenty chimes in, “Contest over.”

One cannot live in times like these without paying the toll.

We internalize our environment, affecting how we feel and even infecting our beliefs; the result is that we view our lives differently than if circumstances were otherwise. As evidence, utilizing an example from the late Zig Zigler, picture your typical morning. Imagine your attitude. Rate it on a one-to-ten scale; most of us land somewhere between six and eight most times. Now, imagine that same “typical” morning, with one aberration: you awake to voice mail from a loved one, “It’s been too long. I’m thinking about you. I can’t wait until we get together. I love you and hope your day is filled with joy.”

It is without a doubt that in scenario two, we’d face the day energized, enthusiastic, and determined. Problems that would have normally knocked us off-trail become insufficient bumps in the asphalt.

Nothing changed — except our attitude. Because it improved, we took on more; facing more upbeat the day ahead, and closing our eyes at night more fulfilled.

Attitude — the complex interaction between feelings and beliefs that affect how we view the world, and therefore how we react to it — matters.

Yet, a question remains: “Is our attitude determined by us or by outside circumstances?”

The honest answer is it’s some of both, but with enough understanding of what determines this mindset, we can wrestle back the reins and become masters of attitude, therefore leading happier, more fulfilling lives — even amid the madness churning around us like a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico.

Attitude has nothing to do with logic; it’s more primal; it’s “right-brain” driven.

Therefore, telling yourself (or anyone else) to “get over it” is like trying to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and annoys the pig.

To up-level attitude, we must dig deep into what we believe as well as how we process emotions.

[Read more…]

Seeking Joy in Difficult Times

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Twenty-twenty was supposed to be “our” year.

My wife is crossing into a significant new decade age-wise (aren’t they all?). I was supposed to “retire” – in whatever definition that was. This month commemorates our twentieth anniversary; we were planning a recommitment shindig and a nice long tropical vacation. Buzzing with anticipation for all that would come this year; that was us last December.

Said John Lennon, “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.”

The year literally began with a bad case of the flu on January 1. That should have been an omen. On the same day, our eldest cat’s health began a steep too-rapid decline, leading to what would be his passing a few months hence. Want more? We unearthed extremely distressing news about a family member; the kind of tabloid information you’d hear on one of those daytime TV dysfunction fests. Less important, but still adding to the pressure, our washing literally burned up and our sink’s faucet could have been replaced with a fountain. I’m sure you’ve got stories too.

We tried focusing on the positive. Knowing Tiger’s passing was imminent, we promised that after it happened, we’d grieve, lick our wounds for a short while, and then get away for a few days just the two of us; something we haven’t been able to do in too long. Afterward, we’d put together plans for our “Celebrate 2020” vacation. Panama Canal cruise? Trip to Europe? Two weeks in Hawaii? The choices were endless – and invigorating.

Yeah, not so much.

I am so disappointed about how this year has evolved.

I know. It’s not just me; it’s you too. It’s the elderly couple across the street self-isolating. It’s the maid at the Best Western who was let go due to a lack of guests. Grocery clerks insufficiently protected by panels of acrylic are feeling it. Health care providers are suffering PTSD. Mom and pop restauranteurs feel immeasurable guilt about laying off employees; simply hoping to survive. Teachers want to return to classrooms, but not at the risk of dying. Spiritual communities and self-help groups are shuttered.

It’s a cluster.

EVERYONE is disappointed; it’s the global zeitgeist.

[Read more…]

If I Could: A Prayer for Healing

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If I could, I’d wash away the sadness.

I would wrap you in my arms and hold you against me, pressed against my chest. I would protect you from everything that makes you unhappy and reduces your spirit. Gently, I’d wipe away the tears and hold gently your head between my hands, looking you deep in the eyes, reminding you without words that I am with you no matter what comes. We’d embrace again, a little too long; yet as we pulled apart, we’d eke out delicate smiles as we went our separate ways for the day, confident in the awareness that we’d be together safely again come evening.

If it was up to me, I’d banish the fear.

Standing bullishly, steel-tower upright and strong; arms crossed over my chest, facing into the bleak; I’d defend you as you stood behind me. Nothing would pass to bring you agony. No harm could penetrate. An invisible shield lovingly guarding you from all that might bring to you hurt, or cause you to cower fearfully in the dark places. The soft, bright, warm glow of inner strength would flood over you until you again could stand tall beside me. At that point, arm-in-arm, the two of us would face the day, supported by each other, looking forward to the future once again.

If it was in my power, I’d eliminate the worries.

I would keep us in the present, realizing all that happened has gone and what is yet to come is powerless until it appears. We would rejoice in the Now, infused with the awareness that, in this moment, at this point in time, despite the maelstrom that swirls around us near and far, we are safe and secure and together. Remembering that this moment is all we have; for the past cannot be changed and the future is still a formless shadow. Anxiety would subside. We’d breathe deeply again, filling our lungs with peaceful calm, and savor the perfect moment of the here and now.

If there was a way to accomplish it, I’d heal away the illness.

[Read more…]

One of These Days, When This All Passes…

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One of these days, morning will dawn on a world where this will have all passed.

One of these days, we will return to lives, no longer sheltering-in-place nor wearing protective gear and masks to leave our houses. One of these days we will again put on make-up, style our hair, dress up, and go out for a night at the theater, soaking in all the glorious laughter and chatter of being in a room full of people, no longer fearful of what might be transmitted. One day again, we will celebrate a special occasion at an upscale restaurant, surrounded a bit too closely by other diners – but we won’t mind. One of these days we will host dinner parties and wrap our arms around and hold tight each and every person who enters our house.

One of these days, we will look back with a mixture of sorrow and relief and anger and fear at this entire horrific, upending, devastating period.

Alas, that day is not yet.

It won’t be as far from now as we fear, nor will it be as soon as we would prefer.

But it is coming; as surely as the sun will rise and the winds will blow and the stars will shine; it is approaching. Paraphrasing T.S. Elliot, that instant will land not with a bang, but with a whimper; subtlety, slowly, surreptitiously making known its presence. In the same manner one cannot actually watch a flower open but can recognize its beauty when it blooms, that time is blossoming even now.

And when it does, what will you do to commemorate its arrival?

I will re-experience joy in the small things. No more will I socially distance myself nor self-isolate, instead smiling broadly when someone — anyone — passes me on the sidewalk. No longer having to swab everything with sani-wipes, I will plop down my butt on any park bench I damn well want or hang from its jungle gym, free of trepidation of what I might catch. I will relish the background noise and chatter of a crowded mall. I’ll stand nearer than six feet when in line at the grocery store and won’t be afraid to handle cash when I pay. [Read more…]

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Scott "Q" Marcus 707 834.4090 scottq@thistimeimeanit.com

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